A Birthday for Marian, or Two Foxes
by muchbeddled
Summary: Restored to his rightful place as Lord Locksley, Robin is blissfully married to Marian. Meaning to please her on her birthday, he loses an archery contest with her on purpose, making her angry. A chance comment of Much's causes Marian to rethink her behavior as Robin's wife, and she tries being obedient and docile.
1. Chapter 1

Walking hand-in-hand with Robin, Marian was pleasantly surprised when her husband suddenly stopped his steps under a flowering pear tree.

In full blossom, the tree was as beautiful as this spring day in May...her birthday. And it wasn't only the weather that was perfect today...everything about her first birthday as Lady Locksley was perfect. Robin had seen to that.

"Why are we stopping?" Marian asked, believing it was only to share a few more private, romantic kisses before joining their villagers at the outdoor feast that would culminate the celebration of her birthday.

Pulling her close as while holding her around her waist, Robin smiled adoringly down at her.

"If memory serves," he began, a twinkle in his eye, "this was the tree where I taught you to shoot."

"Your memory's getting rusty," she teased, wondering what was up."You know it was an apple tree."

His grin began at his eyes and lit up his entire face. "Was it?" he asked, feigning ignorance. "Must be lack of sleep. When did Matilda say we can expect Ellie to start sleeping through the night?"

Ellie, or rather Ellen, named for Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine, was their infant daughter, a miracle child since Marian had been told she would never bear children after Gisbourne stabbed her in Acre. Adored by the entire village of Locksley, she was a remarkably good baby who completed her parents' joy.

"Don't blame Ellie for your lack of sleep," Marian said coyly, remembering with pleasure last night in their bed.

Robin chuckled, then turned serious as he leaned down to share those kisses Marian had been wanting since they paused under the pear tree.

"Happy birthday, Wren," Robin said tenderly, using her childhood nickname.

"Hadn't we better head home?" Marian asked, knowing the village was waiting. "You have no trouble sauntering in late for things, but I prefer to be on time."

" 'Sauntering,' " Robin repeated, grinning. "Since when do I saunter? Anyway, I stopped here for a reason."

"What reason?"

Stepping back, Robin looked up to survey the tree's branches covered in lacy white blossoms. "Remember how we used to shoot down apples and pears?"

"From my father's trees at Knighton. Yes. But you aren't going to shoot anything today, unless you want to somehow shoot down a bouquet of flowers."

"Flowers would be nice," Robin said, grinning, "but where would be the fun in that? What would you say if I shot down a lovely green pear instead?"

"I'd say you're a better archer than you think. You know it's impossible. That tree won't bear fruit for another month, at least."

"I say there's a pear up there, a lovely green pear, like I said. And I intend to give it to you."

"Alright, Locksley, since you're determined to show off with your bow, shoot. I still say you'll only bring down a cascade of petals."

Marian had never told him, but she loved watching Robin shoot. He made it look so effortless, so natural, and maybe it was for him. He always credited God for his gift with the bow. Yet she also knew how much he had practiced shooting when he was a boy.

He looked beautiful now, taking aim at the branches and releasing his arrow. Almost instantly a small package dropped at her feet.

She should have expected it, but she drew in her breath anyway. "What's this?" she asked. "You know I don't like surprises."

"Nothing but a green pear, Marian," Robin grinned, looking pleased with himself. "Open it and see."

She couldn't help feeling excited as she opened the box, remembering how once long ago Robin had given her a box containing nothing, tied up in green ribbons.

He'd certainly improved as a gift giver since then, not that she cared overly for gifts. Opening the box now, she uttered a gasp when she saw it contained a pair of exquisite emerald earrings.

"A green _pair," __s_he realized, not knowing what else to say. "Thank you."

Robin smiled adoringly at her, happy at her pleasure from his surprise gift. But there was one more surprise he had hidden in the meadow. "Try them on," he suggested.

Thrilled and excited now, Marian tucked her hair behind her ears and put on the earrings, then looked to him to see if he liked them.

"Well?" she asked, when he only smiled at her.

"You look gorgeous," he answered. "In fact, you look so gorgeous, it's not fair you can't see for yourself. Now, how can we remedy that?"

"I'll look in the mirror later, when we get home. We need to go, Robin. We're late for the feast."

Locksley Manor contained the only mirror Marian had ever seen...a large sheet of beaten metal. Only the extreme upper classes had the luxury of looking at their reflections, and glass mirrors in England were almost unheard of. But Robin had once observed Princess Johanna's pleasure at peering at a true, undistorted vision of herself in a glass mirror from Venice, and ever since, he had wanted to give one to Marian.

"Not until you see how the earrings suit you."

"I can't do that, until we're home."

"You could if you look in the water."

In spite of all Robin's thoughtful and generous caring today, Marian felt herself growing annoyed. Her husband had never cared how late he was to things, no matter how much it irked her.

But there was nothing to do but walk across the meadow to the river Trent and pretend to see her reflection, though with its waters rushing from recent spring rains, she knew it would be impossible.

Ever ready to argue, Marian resisted. "It's impossible to see anything in the river today. Let's go, Robin."

"As impossible as it was to bring a 'pear' down from the tree?" he asked, snickering.

"What are you up to now?" she asked, intrigued despite her desire to be off. "Another surprise gift?"

Robin's smug grin was tempered by loving admiration for his wife. "Did I ever tell you how astute you are, my love?" he asked.

Smiling, Marian grabbed Robin's hand and ran to the river bank, letting him guide her to the exact spot.

"Look in the water," he advised, enjoying her excitement.

"There's something..." Marian began, spying something under the water's edge.

"I'm glad it didn't wash away," Robin laughed. "I tied it to that boulder, just to make sure."

Fascinated, Marian reached under the icy water and pulled up another box, this one larger than the last one and dripping from having been submerged.

"What is it?" she asked, opening it, then froze in amazement when she caught her own face staring back at her.

She had never seen herself so clearly before. It was as if she were truly looking at another person, and her image took her breath away.

"How...?" she asked, not knowing such an object as the mirror she held in hand existed.

"It's from Venice," Robin told her, moved by her obvious joy and amazement. "They're famous for making glass there. A sheet of pure silver behind it shows you a clear a clear picture of yourself. Didn't I tell you, you look gorgeous?"

Marian couldn't answer. So, this was how she truly looked. She knew her features from the metal mirror at Locksley, but she had never seen how glowing and radiant she looked.

She credited marriage to the man she loved for her radiance. "You've given me myself," she told Robin, emotionally. "It's as if I can see into my soul." Mastering her emotion, she quickly added, "And that's not dribble."

He laughed, taking her in his arms again. "I'm glad you like it."

"I do. You didn't buy it just so you could look at yourself, did you?"

"Why does everyone accuse me of being vain?" He winked at her, and her smile turned even more radiant. "Come on, my love," Robin added. "Let's go home."

...

Marian's birthday feast at Locksley was an extremely happy event. And since Marian loved Robin so much, she wanted to do something special for him as well.

Knowing how very much he loved archery competitions, she told him that the only thing that could make her day any better was to shoot against him in a friendly contest.

"I've practiced a lot, since you taught me to shoot apples," she told him.

"Why even try?" Much asked, his mouth full of beef. "No one can beat my master."

"I'm not your master any more, Much," Robin reminded him. "We're equals now, remember?"

"I keep forgetting! I mean, I know I'm Lord Bonchurch, and Eve's my wife and everything, which is unbelievable if you think about how we were outlaws just a few months ago, scraping by in the forest! But I've looked after you for so long, it's hard not to...But anyway, Marian, why shoot against Robin. Nobody can beat him."

"I can try."

"I accept your challenge," Robin said happily, rising from the table and springing into action.

In no time, he'd announced the contest and helped set up a target and torches to light it. His villagers were delighted by the prospect to watch their Lord and Lady shoot, always proud of Master Robin's amazing talent with the bow.

"Ladies first," Robin said gallantly, standing aside to enjoy Marian's effort.

Love swelled within his breast as he watched her. She was everything to him, and he couldn't be any happier married to her than he already was. As he'd told her when he proposed, she seemed made for him. And now, she seemed determined to beat him at archery, if only this once.

Never had Robin lost an archery competition on purpose, but he decided to do so tonight. He loved Marian so much, that he didn't want to do anything to disappoint her.

He didn't think that by losing on purpose, he would do just that.


	2. Chapter 2

Robin was impressed. Marian's first shot of the three that would constitute their archery competition throbbed in the center ring of the target, just shy of the bull's-eye.

He answered his wife's proud and challenging smile with his own admiring one. "Good work!" he said approvingly, pleasing Marian even more. Then, brushing his lips on top of their infant daughter's head for luck, he turned to Much to swap his child for his bow.

Everyone held their breath while he took aim, anticipating one of the unbelievably amazing shots he was known for. But the shot he took was only amazing to him.

His arrow landed exactly where he planned...so close to Marian's it almost grazed it, but a hair farther from the center. The crowd gasped, then buzzed with surprised murmurings.

"Wind must have picked up," Robin announced happily, throwing Marian a sheepish grin before trading his bow for Ellie with Much again.

Marian flashed back a look of anger. "What is he doing?" she hissed to Allan, who watched alongside Will and Djaq.

"Not bein' funny, but losin' to you," Allan answered, grinning at the prospect of anyone showing up Robin.

"He lost that point on purpose," Marian fumed. "He'll probably lose the next one, too, just so he can perform some amazing feat no one's ever seen at the end, and humiliate me."

"Robin would not humiliate you, Marian," Djaq reminded her.

"No? He wouldn't think of it that way, but he would, if it earned him glory. What's he planning? To shoot his third arrow while holding our baby in his arms, or better yet, shoot backwards while eyeing the target through my new mirror?"

"No, Marian," Will insisted. "Djaq's right. Trust Robin."

Marian studied her husband, wondering. No other man in the world, she was thinking, could look so manly yet boyishly handsome, holding a baby.

Seeming to feel her intense gaze, Robin lifted his eyes, meeting hers with a look of loving joy.

"Perhaps it was the wind," Marian admitted, still feeling uneasy as she selected her next arrow.

Determined, she fired her second shot, then tensed with excitement when it landed in the dead center of the ring.

Over the cheers of the crowd, Marian called, "Beat that, Locksley, if you can."

Privately to their three friends, she confided, "He's going to split my arrow this time."

Much, flustered that Robin was losing, was having difficulty with the constant trading of baby for bow, so Robin handed Ellie into Little John's strong arms. The giant flushed with pleasure beneath his unruly beard when the baby cooed.

Robin grew as serious as Marian now, careful not to give his plan away. He had planned to win the second point, but with Marian's shot so excellent, the only way to do so would be to split her arrow, and he didn't want to do that.

He didn't want to take anything away from her today. She'd shot a perfect bull's-eye, earning the right to shine.

Lifting his bow, he aimed his arrow a fraction away from dead center.

Of course, his arrow hit just where he intended.

Marian searched Robin's face again. He appeared pleased, shrugging off her win.

"Shouldn't have had that third ale," he called, making all the village laugh. "But today is a special occasion, after all."

"I tell you, he's got something planned," Marian fumed to Allan, Will and Djaq. "I have two points, so he'll have to do something spectacular to win. He'll probably climb on his horse and shoot at full gallop, blindfolded."

"He'll get the glory," Allan agreed, somewhat bitterly siding with Marian.

Will and Djaq exchanged looks. The Robin of Locksley they knew would never do that to his beloved Marian. Unable to understand why Robin wasn't shooting his best, they nevertheless knew he wouldn't do anything to humiliate his wife.

Distracted now, Marian's final shot fell short of her previous two. No one spoke while Robin lifted his bow.

_"I could hit the bull's-eye, and she'd still win the contest," _he was thinking, just before doing so.

The crowd cheered. Robin, basking in their love, turned to smile at Marian, wondering why she wasn't smiling back. Then, raising his hands, he silenced the crowd.

"Thornton will now declare the winner," he announced. "Did I mention the prize is a kiss from the loser?"

Again, everyone laughed. Everyone, that is, except for Marian.

Thornton, the kindly old steward of Locksley Manor, stepped forward. "With two points," he announced, "the contest surprisingly goes to the Lady Marian!"

The applause was half-hearted, disappointing Robin. "You can do better than that," he told his people. "It's not everyday you see someone beat me! To Lady Locksley!"

The village adored Marian almost as much as they loved their good Master Robin. And so, with Robin's lead, they raised their voices in exulted cheers.

"Congratulations," Robin said, approaching Marian with an open, loving gaze. "And now, it's time for you to claim your prize."

Acting, Marian smiled as she had at him the time he'd returned from war and told her that her eyes could see straight into his soul. And repeating what she'd done that day, she now pushed him away just as he was about to kiss her.

"How dare you?" she demanded, under her breath.

"What?" he asked, his temper instantly flaring to match hers.

"You know what you did."

"I thought you'd be pleased! I was trying to be kind!"

"I don't need you to molly coddle me!"

"Fine! You told me that before!"

"Then what do you call what you just did?"

"It was kindness...a birthday gift! I thought, just this once, you'd like to beat me."

"Oh, I'd like to beat you alright!"

They kept their voices hushed, knowing it was a private quarrel, even if it was being played out before their entire village. Forgetting the crowd in their focus on each other, they jumped when Much's voice rang out.

"Please!" he cried. "I knew it! I knew it would be like this, when you two married! You're two of a kind, always fighting, like two foxes in a sack! Unbelievable! I don't know how you can stand it! Eve and I never fight."

"Much, this doesn't concern you," Robin warned, wishing his friend would go away so he could continue arguing with Marian.

But Marian had finished arguing. Much's words had somehow shaken her. Turning, she ran toward the manor.

"What have I done?" Robin asked himself, wishing he had competed fairly.

He should have known she would see through him. She was astute, after all, and she knew him so well. Not only that, but she was proud, just as he was. She'd shot beautifully, but her win was an empty humiliation when she'd won by him letting her.

"I need to apologize to my wife," he told Much before running after her.

As for Marian, she found herself trembling as she replayed Much's words in her head.

_Two foxes in a sack. _Is that the kind of a wife she was, snarling and snapping at her husband, the man she loved? What kind of a life was that for Robin, the bravest, truest, kindest, most loving man in the world?

She needed to change. She wanted more than anything to be a good wife to the man who so deserved it. She would change today...immediately. She would become docile, sweet and yielding. What better day, after all, to begin, but her birthday?


	3. Chapter 3

Robin ran upstairs to his bedchamber, the suite of rooms he shared with his wife.

Stopping in the doorway, he ached when he saw Marian studying her face in her new mirror.

She looked inexpressibly sad, and Robin cursed himself for having caused her sorrow.

Staring deeply at her reflection, Marian was reproaching herself for being so bold, so willful and disagreeable, always arguing with a husband who was the kindest, bravest man she had ever known.

_"Two foxes in a sack," _Much had accused, and Marian believed he was right.

She needed to change. She wanted to make Robin as happy as he made her. Having heard his footsteps on the stairs, Marian put down her mirror and turned to face him.

"You're getting rusty," she teased him sadly. "A year ago, you would have snuck up on me without making a sound."

"A year ago I was an outlaw, and I wouldn't want you anywhere near this room."

Marian shuddered. As wonderful as it was living in Locksley Manor, there were times when she couldn't forget that Guy of Gisbourne had only recently slept here.

"I'm sorry, my love," Robin said, realizing his mistake. "I shouldn't have said that. And I shouldn't have let you win today. I'm a fool."

"No, you're not!"

His self-reproach stung Marian, making her remember all the times she'd called him that, throwing the word "Fool" in his face when she really thought he was a hero.

"I was today," Robin admitted, closing the gap between them and taking her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Marian. You shot beautifully. I should have done the same."

"You were trying to be kind." Hearing his light chuckle, she stiffened and pulled away. "What's so funny?" she asked, sounding in her ears as if she was accusing him of wrongdoing.

Robin smiled adoringly back at her. "Here we are arguing again," he said, his voice like warm honey. "What was it Much called us?"

Marian did not share his amusement. "Two foxes in a sack," she reminded him, stiffly.

Robin chuckled again, then gently stroked her cheek with his thumb. He stopped himself from making a cheeky comment about how much fun that could be, noting how unhappy and serious his wife was. Gazing searchingly into her eyes, he gently asked, "What's this really about?"

Marian shook her head. She couldn't admit how right she found Much's words. Her father, a good, kind, mild man, had loved her completely, yet he'd had to warn her over and over that she was bold and spoke when she shouldn't.

She believed that she was the one who needed to grow up, another accusation she used to fling in Robin's face. Well, it was her birthday, after all.

"Another year older," she lied, surprising him. "That's all. I suppose I'm vain."

"You are not vain, even if I did catch you staring at yourself in the mirror," he teased. "And you're not old. I'm not, and I'm older than you are."

"Not by much!"

She'd done it again...argued with him when there was no cause. Marian bit her tongue, wishing she could take it back.

But Robin seemed amused. He winked at her, looking both adorable and sexy. "Only two years apart now, since it's your birthday. Yesterday it was three. You always did like to make that distinction, when we were children."

He was holding her, stroking her hair. Marian wanted to shut out the rest of the world and just stay here with Robin, forgetting herself by loving him. She wanted him to make her toes curl again, the way he had last night. There was no one but themselves in the house, which was a welcome rarity. She could easily convince him, but that would be boldness again, and she needed to guard herself against being bold.

Unknown to her, Robin's thoughts were traveling a similar route. His desire for his wife was hot, yet he fought against it, believing her still unhappy from his deliberate loss at archery. He held her gently, tenderly, wanting her to be happy again.

"Your party's not over," he reminded her. "Shall we go back and join the fun?"

Marian nodded, wanting to kiss him.

Her sadness was ridiculous and selfish, she angrily told herself. Willfully banishing it, she gave Robin a subdued smile.

"Whatever you want, my husband," she answered him, meekly.

Robin appeared surprised, then amused, thinking she must be teasing him. His grin was like the sun breaking through clouds. "Well then, my wife," he jested, offering his arm, "allow me to escort you."


	4. Chapter 4

Robin awoke early the following morning to the sound of a gentle rain beating upon his manor's roof.

His house...his entire village was quiet, everyone having stayed up late celebrating Lady Locksley's birthday. Smiling at the memory, Robin stretched and rolled over to gaze at his beautiful wife sleeping beside him.

Her hair fanned her pillow and one creamy shoulder peeked from her white nightdress. Warmth flooded Robin, and his sigh was pure contentment, tinged with longing.

Whatever sadness had bothered Marian after the archery competition he shouldn't have purposely lost, had quickly left her once they rejoined the festivities. Robin suspected she'd been missing her father. Feast days were always hard, with memories of departed loved ones. But with Ellie in her arms Marian had cheered, and the remaining hours of her birthday were merry.

Robin's longing would have to wait, for Marian needed to sleep and he needed to be off for an early morning Council of Nobles. There was work to do, convincing the new sheriff and the nobles to abolish the rest of Sheriff Vaisey's crippling taxes.

Unable to resist the loveliness of that shoulder gleaming in gentle morning light, Robin pressed his lips against her smooth, silken skin before rising to get dressed.

"Guy."

Robin stiffened and froze.

She was dreaming...of HIM? That monster who had terrorized his good people, who had nearly murdered her? And yet she dreamed of him!

_You can't control your dreams, _Robin reminded himself, trying to force away his anger. He of all people ought to know that. Yet his jealousy enflamed him.

"Guy."

Robin did not realize his own offhand comment yesterday, "A year ago I was outlawed, and I wouldn't want you anywhere near this room," had planted the seed for Marian's nightmare. No intimate, romantic dream, but one of terror, with Guy returning to Locksley to "punish" both Robin and herself. In her dream, Marian pleaded with the man to put away his sword.

Unjustly angry, Robin rose and began dressing, shoving his arms and legs into his clothes. He wanted to wake her, pull her from her thoughts of the murderer who somehow held some part of her still, or so Robin believed. But he wouldn't. She was tired, she needed to sleep, and there would be time to deal with this later. But all the same, he hated leaving her alone with her thoughts of Gisbourne.

The sound of a horse outside told him that Much had arrived. After buckling on his sword, Robin snatched up his cloak...a new one that was not patched, and dashed down the stairs to meet Much in the rain.

"You ready?" Much asked, amazed. "Unbelievable! I thought I'd have to pull you out of bed!"

"Have you eaten?" Robin asked, ignoring his friend's teasing.

"Of course! But I'll eat again, since you're offering. Rain! I hate rain!"

Robin swung himself onto his saddle, thanking Ian for being the only other person up in Locksley, then tossed Much a roll before biting into one himself.

"I must say," Much declared, his mouth full of bread, "your cook makes the finest bread! You're stormy this morning. I told you not to drink quite so much ale last night! I told you we needed to be up early! But you never listen!"

Robin wasn't listening now. All the way to Nottingham, he could hear Marian's lovely voice in his head murmuring, "Guy."


	5. Chapter 5

The rain continued a steady downpour, confining the Locksley villagers to their homes.

"A perfect day to visit," Marian decided, pulling her hood over her head. With Ellen napping, and Robin attending the Council in Nottingham, Marian gathered baskets of leftover food from her birthday feast then ran through the downpour to collect Will and Djaq.

The next door she knocked upon belonged to the potter's family. The door opened a crack, revealing the scowling face of Rebecca. Opening the door wider, Rebecca dropped a swift curtsey.

"Your Ladyship!"

"I hope we're not intruding," Marian responded, amazed as always how frightened and suspicious the good people of Locksley had become after living under Guy of Gisbourne. "I've brought food."

"Come in, Your Ladyship! Come in! Kate! Maggie! Come greet Lady Locksley!"

Little Maggie, all smiles, rushed to welcome Marian. Kate came sullenly.

Will cast his eyes over the cottage, then quietly set to work repairing a cupboard.

"Is everyone well?" Marian asked. "Djaq's brought medicine."

"We're well and fine, thank you," Rebecca answered, glad for the food.

Marian noticed Maggie gazing at the blue ribbon in her hair. "Would you like it?" she asked, removing it from her head. "Blue would look so pretty in your red hair."

Maggie's delight was obvious. Kate, however, glared at their guests, then yanked the ribbon and flung it in Marian's face.

"You're dripping on our floor," she snapped, angrily. "We don't want your leavings. We can take care of ourselves."

"Kate!" her mother warned. "Forgive her, Your Ladyship. She lost what manners she had, living with those outlaws in the forest."

Djaq and Marian exchanged quick, amused smiles. "You mean Lord Locksley's gang," Marian reminded her.

Rebecca sucked in an embarrassed breath. "Of course I don't mean Master Robin! It were that tavern keeper I meant."

"Allan a Dale is a true, brave man, and a friend of ours," Marian stated.

The visit was not going well, but then, Kate and her mother were never Marian's favorite villagers. Marian excused them, however, believing they'd turned bitter after losing the men of the house, the potter and his son Matthew. "Kate," she said kindly, giving the blond a gentle smile.

"You lot should of stayed in the Holy Land," Kate snapped back. "Robin would of married me if you hadn't come back."

"Kate!" Rebecca was mortified by her daughter's insolence.

Marian mastered her annoyance. "No, Kate," she corrected. "He never would have."

"Why did he kiss me then?" Kate accused.

A flicker of anger flashed in Marian's eyes. Maintaining her poise, she merely said, "I shall be sure to ask my husband, when he comes home tonight."

"Perhaps we ought to go," Djaq suggested.

Kate slammed the door behind them, and the trio ran through the rain to the next cottage.

This visit proved even more dismal than the other.

Jean, a faded widow over fifty, happily let them in. Her mother, Old Widow Barrett, sat huddled by the fire.

There were several repairs for Will to do, and Djaq rubbed a soothing salve on the old woman's gnarled hands.

"May I have some, too?" Jean asked. "I feel the rheumatism when it rains."

Marian couldn't help notice the gap on Jean's left hand where her ring finger used to be. "It were Gisbourne," Jean explained. "He sent his ruffians to collect our taxes, and we couldn't pay. He ordered me to give him my wedding ring, but it were stuck. It wouldn't come off. So he bellowed for his men to cut my finger off. He got the ring alright, may he rot in Hell."

"Jean," Marian sighed. "I am so sorry!"

"It weren't Your Ladyship's fault. Don't trouble yourself. Master Robin's been restored to his rightful place again, and all our sufferings are over. I only wish my mother could know it. Lost her wits, she did, from Gisbourne ordering his brutes to kick her in her head. Imagine it...an old, helpless woman, fallen to the ground and being kicked over and over, while _Sir _Guy watched it all astride his black horse."

"I hate Gisbourne," Will stated vehemently, his teeth clenched.

"He cannot hurt us anymore," Djaq reminded them, her voice soothingly calm.

Marian sat frozen, remembering the past. How could she ever have believed she might turn Guy away from cruelty? Because he sometimes showed her his "softer side?" That existed only because he wanted something from her...her very self. Even if she had married him, she would never have given all of herself to him! He was a monster, just as Robin had said.

Robin! How different! Merry and charming where Guy was brooding, generous and giving where Guy would take, a true leader whom men longed to follow, not some coward demanding "respect" through fear and force! Champion of the poor, Lord of her heart!

So, he'd kissed Kate, had he? It must have meant nothing, though Marian was still surprised. Kate! Robin had always been careful to treat his village maidens with respect and restraint. He used to tease, he even used to flirt, but only with those lasses wise enough to know it would go no further.

Marian shook these thoughts away, concentrating instead on the two lonely old widows.

"I must bring Ellie next time," she said, knowing how her baby would please them. "I would have today, but for the rain."

"Oh, we love Her young Ladyship!" Jean proclaimed. "We pray for her daily, and for a brother to follow her."

Marian smiled, coloring slightly. "Thank you. I hope god hears your prayers."

She doubted she could bear any more children. She considered Ellie a miracle, having been told that Gisbourne's wound ruined her chances of ever becoming a mother.

Jean seemed eager to return to her spinning, and there were several more cottages to visit. Bidding the widows goodbye, Marian, Will and Djaq continued their calls, trying to spread sunshine on a rainy day in Locksley.

Marian believed it would be sunny for her, once Robin returned home from Nottingham. She could hardly wait.


	6. Chapter 6

"Lady Marian, Master Robin is returning home."

Marian's heart fluttered at the news, and her eyes sparkled at Thornton.

"He's sure to be soaked and muddy," she mentioned, for the rain had continued all day. "Please have a hot bath prepared."

Thornton issued the order, and Marian, holding her daughter, whispered in Ellen's tiny ear, "Daddy's home."

A bath would warm him, Marian believed, as well as giving them a chance to talk, undisturbed, about the Council. And no doubt, Robin would invite her to join him in the bath, and then...eager warmth flushed through Marian as she thought about it.

Dripping, Robin stepped into his home after first stabling his horse with Ian. "Thank you, Thomas," Robin told his manservant, handing him his drenched cloak and his sword.

"Welcome home, Master," Thornton said warmly.

Robin nodded and smiled. His eyes flew to Marian, confusing her by their look.

They showed none of their usual affection...none of the adoration they typically cast on her. They neither teased, gazed, nor smoldered. They looked pained, and searching. And then, quickly, they grew hard, as if to protect the man behind them from being hurt.

Stepping toward her to greet their child, Robin seemed himself again.

"Not until you're dry," Marian told him, fondly. "There's a hot bath and dry clothing waiting for you, upstairs."

"That sounds perfect."

Still no kiss, not even one on her cheek. Marian wondered what could be wrong. Reminding herself that the servants surrounded them, and that Robin was soaked to the skin, Marian handed Ellen to her nurse and followed her husband upstairs.

Steam rose from the tub. Marian closed the door behind her, watching her husband undress.

She loved his body, every inch of it, even his scars. She couldn't help it. She so loved the man, and found it wonderful that as his wife, she could enjoy his body as well as his thoughts and his companionship.

Lowering himself into the steaming rose-scented water, Robin breathed a long sigh.

"How was the Council?" Marian asked, wanting to close the odd sense of distance she felt between them.

Robin barely looked at her.

"Worse than I expected," he answered. "I won one battle, when I should have won the war."

"Is it a war?"

"Trying to convince greedy, selfish men who've grown accustomed to lining their pockets with other people's hard-earned money to give it back? Trust me, it's war."

"Well, it's a good thing you're such a good soldier then. There will be other battles, Robin. What point did you win today? Tell me."

Robin relaxed, naming the one and only tax he was able to abolish.

"It's a start," Marian said, approvingly.

"I need to think of another way to approach them, next time. What would you say to me inviting them here, to Locksley, to show them how everyone can prosper, without unnecessary taxes?"

"I'd say it was brilliant, _if_ everyone was prospering. But they're not, Robin. I visited several homes today, where they're still suffering."

"Who?"

Robin sat straight up in the bath. His drive to help his people was strong. He was doing his best for them, wanting to restore Locksley to the village it had been before he'd gone to serve his king and country in battle.

"The worst were Jean and Old Widow Barrett. I cannot believe the cruelty Guy inflicted on them!"

It had slipped out. All day long Marian had wanted to cry, having learned the awful truth about Gisbourne. She wanted nothing so much as for Robin, wet and naked though he was, to climb from his bath and fold her in his arms, comforting her from the cruelty of the man she'd tried to rescue from his own evil nature.

But Robin didn't. He was silent and still. The water in his bath did not even ripple.

Marian's eyes met his, and the hard look on his face startled her.

"Yet you dream of him," he harshly accused.

Marian blinked her eyes, having no recollection of her nightmare. "Dream?" she repeated. "What are you talking about?"

"This morning," Robin answered. "In your sleep, you spoke his name. Twice."

Marian stared back at him. He was seething with anger, trying hard to keep it in check.

"You can't be jealous!" she shouted. "Of a dream?"

"You still hold feelings for him."

"Don't be ridiculous."

She was angry now. When would Robin ever learn? She had NEVER loved Guy!

"Grow up," she snapped.

Too worked up to sit still, Robin climbed from the tub, wrapping a towel around his waist. He knew he was being unfair, but he couldn't seem to help it. His hatred, his jealousy toward Gisbourne always seemed to turn him vicious.

The man was a monster... a monster who'd committed monstrous acts upon Robin's people, not to mention toward Marian herself.

"He tried to murder you," Robin reminded her.

"He tried to murder _you!" _Marian shot back.

Neither one mentioned their unborn baby who had died from Gisbourne's sword-wound to Marian, but both thought of him.

"How dare you accuse me of wanting him?" Marian demanded, "especially when I so readily forgave you?"

"Forgave me? For what?"

"Kissing Kate. She told me. She thinks you wanted to marry her. Tell me, Robin, was it only kissing? A girl doesn't usually credit a man with wanting marriage from a mere kiss."

Marian hated that he looked so attractive, wearing nothing but a towel. It conjured up all kinds of thoughts of him with Kate.

The girl's angry confession hadn't really bothered Marian until now. She knew that Robin had been confused, out of his mind with grief over her supposed death. She knew all about his brief, intense relationship with Guy's evil sister Isabella. And she'd heard Kate refer to herself as Robin's "girlfriend," but she'd never credited it. Not until today. Not until he accused her unjustly of harboring "feelings" for Guy.

If he could be jealous, then so could she.

"What happened between you and Kate, Robin? You never told me."

Robin let out a sigh. Marian's shocking news that Kate had expected marriage knocked all the jealousy out of him.

He must have hurt the girl. He'd never wanted that. Obviously, he had some explaining to do. And not only to his wife, who stood before him looking so beautiful with her eyes flashing and her cheeks flushed. But to Kate as well.

"I did kiss her," he admitted, "though I should never have done. I was drunk."

Marian, listening to him with all his anger gone, found hers ease away as well. She remembered now Much's description of them as "two foxes in a sack," and she regretted her part in their argument.

"It's alright," she told him. "You don't have to tell me."

"I should have already. She'd let me know she liked me, by kissing me before. I had no idea. I wasn't all there most days, trying to forget you, and not being able to. Needing to, but not wanting to."

Marian understood completely. She'd felt exactly the same, when he'd left her for war.

"Go on," she urged, gently.

"I was involved with Isabella, like I told you. Huge mistake. I knew it was wrong. I was trying to recapture what we'd had, Marian, and it wasn't fair, neither to Isabella nor to me. No matter how I wanted her to be, she wasn't you. She even told me so herself. "I'm not Her," she said. And one day, after she described us spending a life together, I faced the truth. I let her down as easily as I could. In essence, I freed myself from her, and it felt good. So that night, around the fire, I had one too many ales, and I kissed Kate."

"Another huge mistake?"

"I wouldn't say a huge one, at least not to me. If she's still bitter, thinking I would have married her, then yes, I'll have to agree it was huge."

"And it went no further?"

"I swear it didn't."

"Good."

They stood facing one another, and finally, both began to smile.

"You haven't kissed me since my birthday," Marian informed him. "Did you know that?"

"Serve me one too many ales, and I will," Robin teased.

Marian laugh once, a quick grunt of a laugh. She wanted to make up the quarrel, but he was so difficult. What she really wanted to do was to crawl in the bath tub with him, provided the water was still warm. Or sneak into their bedchamber and lock the door. Nothing was easy with a household of gossipy servants, interested in every nuance of her relationship with their beloved master.

Robin approached her, his eyes and his smile passionate and adoring. Taking her in his arms, he slowly kissed her, igniting the fire that had been smoldering within her.

"That's better," she sighed when they came up for air.

His eyes searched hers, asking permission. Her "yes" was clear, they forgot all about servants who wondered how long the bath would stay warm as the supper downstairs grew cold.


	7. Chapter 7

Marian had no idea how late it was, not having noticed when daylight faded from her bedchamber. The last thing she wanted to do was pull herself away from her husband's embrace and leave their warm bed, but she knew they mustn't linger any longer, no matter how sweet it was to lie in Robin's arms.

"We should get up," she mentioned, leaning up on one elbow.

"We should," Robin agreed, smiling. "But where would be the fun in that?"

Marian smiled, throwing herself back into his arms. She never tired of hearing him say that. "Haven't we had enough fun for today?" she asked, kissing his throat. She loved the feel of his rough beard stubble, damp and fresh-smelling from his bath. "Besides," she added, "Mary cooked you supper, and now it's bound to be cold."

"All the more reason to stay here, where it's toasty warm."

"Burning hot," Marian corrected. She caught her breath when Robin flipped her onto her back and rolled on top of her.

The look he gave her held no more teasing, but only heartfelt love. Their lips met in a slow, deep, lingering kiss.

"I used to picture your face every night before I'd fall asleep...in Acre," he confessed.

Marian held her breath. Robin never spoke of his time at war. It still gave him nightmares...nightmares he'd awaken from sweaty and shaken. It was like pulling teeth to get him to talk about them, yet here he was now, seemingly wanting to talk about his time as a Knight Templar fighting alongside King Richard. At last.

She tried to picture him wearing the white Templar tunic emblazoned with a red cross, as she'd seen Carter and the other knights wearing when she had been in Acre. The cross, she knew, represented Christ's cross, red with His blood, while the white marked the Knight as being pure, washed free from sin. Marian waited for Robin to tell her something...anything about his time as Captain of the King's Private Guard.

He remained silent, and his eyes had a hurt, faraway look in them. His face was only inches from hers and they lay together, heart-to-heart, yet he seemed nearly as distant to her as Acre was to Locksley.

Marian hated the distance, refusing to allow it. They'd been apart too many years already...she wouldn't accept anything driving a wedge between them now that they were finally man and wife.

"Tell me, if you want to," she murmured, drawing him back to her again.

After several moments that seemed much longer to Marian, Robin shook his head.

How could he tell her the horrors he'd witnessed...the horrors he'd been part of? Killing man after man after man in battle until the sand grew slippery with their blood and he couldn't see from the sweat pouring off him...sweat and the splattered blood of his victims. His sword-arm burned from overuse, yet the enemy still kept coming, hacking down his fellow soldiers, slicing them to bits, fighting for their god and country just as he was fighting for his.

"You were a hero," Marian reminded him, soothingly, as if she'd read his thoughts.

"Thank God there's peace, at least for now," Robin said.

"There won't be another war, surely."

"Not if I can help it."

"What do you mean?"

Slowly, Robin puffed the air out of his cheeks. "The truce Richard agreed to with Saladin is for three years. One's already passed. Unless I can change his mind, Richard plans to return to the Holy Land and finish what he started."

Stunned, Marian wriggled away from Robin and sat up in bed. She felt as if someone had punched her in her stomach.

"Are you saying that the king will resume his crusade?"

"That's his plan. In two years' time, he means to return and take control of Jerusalem from the Saracens."

"And will you go with him?"

Marian didn't recognize her own voice. A coldness seeped into her, making her feel empty and lifeless.

Robin had no desire to return. After many wasted years, he was finally able to enjoy the life he'd always wanted. He never wanted to leave the wife and child he adored, and there was still so much work to do to restore Locksley to a happy, prosperous village. He had a duty to his wife, a duty to his child, and a duty to his people. It made him sick to think of killing again. And yet, he also had a duty to serve his king and country.

He no longer believed in the Pope Gregory's cause...to have Christians control Jerusalem. Being a young, idealistic dreamer, he believed that people of three faiths, Muslims, Jews, and Christians, could live amicably together in the holiest of cities.

He needed to convince Richard that he too had a duty...one stronger than his desire to control Jerusalem. He had a duty to remain in England and reign as her King.

But Robin didn't tell Marian any of this.

Instead, he sat up beside her and merely said, "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. _If _we come to it. Let's just enjoy the time we have now, together."

Marian didn't speak. Pursing her lips together, she rose from the bed, gathered up her scattered clothing, and began dressing.

Two more years! Would that be all they'd share before Robin would leave her to ride off to war again? No!

She wanted to talk to him about it now...tell him how she felt and make him swear he would stay. But something made her hold her tongue.

Was it fear, or dread that he would leave? Or Much's implication that she was a horrible, shrewish wife who argued all the time?

Whatever the cause, Marian held in her thoughts and barely spoke or smiled the rest of the evening.

**...**

**(Note: I may have mentioned this in one of my previous stories, but it is a fact that King Richard planned to return to the Holy land and continue his crusade once his three-year truce with Saladin ended. He was unable to do so because he died from an infected arrow wound. If you are interested in King Richard's crusade, I recommend reading the historical novel Lionheart by Sharon Kay Penman.) **


	8. Chapter 8

That evening, riding home from Bonchurch with his infant daughter strapped to him, Robin's cheerful mood changed to one of concern.

Something was bothering Marian, he could tell as he studied her riding beside him on her sleek chestnut palfrey, something stronger than mere annoyance at having spent the last several hours as Much's dinner guest.

It wasn't her silence...there were plenty of times when the two of them would be silent, simply enjoying each other's presence, neither disturbing the other's thoughts, the way Much couldn't. And then, one would catch the other's eye and smile, and break the silence to find that their thoughts had kept pace together. But tonight, Marian's silence held no contentment. Her lips pressed tightly together, as if she were keeping her thoughts locked away. And when her eyes glanced his direction, they only looked at Ellie, never at him.

Reining his horse, Robin broke the silence by asking, "Marian, what's wrong?"

Marian reined her horse as well, but didn't answer. Without looking him in the eye, she pressed her lips even more tightly together and shook her head briskly.

All day, after learning that King Richard planned to finish his Crusade to the Holy Land once the three-year truce with Saladin ended, Marian had silently anguished over the possibility of Robin leaving her again to follow his king. She felt as if she were being plunged backward through time, to relive the heartbreak of him leaving, and the possibility that he would never return.

She had believed the days when Robin faced death on a daily basis were over at last. But it seemed they would soon begin again, and Marian did not know how she could accept it.

Forcing her eyes to meet Robin's at last, Marian caught her breath. He hadn't pressed her to speak...he'd only waited until she was ready. He was looking at her so deeply, with that look of his that hid none of his love, caring, or concern.

The depth of emotion in that look was too much for Marian. Knowing how he loved her, how she loved him, she knew that she couldn't bare to lose him. She couldn't breathe. She was drowning in his look.

As if fighting her way to the surface, Marian blurted out, "You were rude tonight."

It was a lie, a distraction from her real concern, but it would do.

Robin's eyebrows shot up, showing his surprise. "Rude?" he repeated. "How? I didn't mean to be. Tell me what I did, Marian, or said, and I'll apologize."

Her horse stamped, sensing her uneasiness in deceiving her husband. "Not to me," she snapped, her distress playing as anger. "To Much."

Robin smiled, relieved. "Much doesn't mind. In fact, he likes it. You should know by now, we kid each other." Looking even more deeply into her, he lowered his voice, asking, "What's really bothering you?"

Marian struggled, feeling herself sink into that intense gaze in those blue eyes of his.

No! She would never admit to her fear!

"You were rude," she restated. "If Much didn't notice, it's only because he's an idiot."

"Marian!"

"Eve noticed. She doesn't like the way you waltz into Bonchurch, as if you still own it! Make up your mind, Robin. Is Bonchurch still yours, or does it belong to Much?"

Justifiably angry, Robin's temper flared. Now both horses were stamping the ground, and both riders were gripping the reins, unaware of anything but their anger toward each other.

"Much earned it. Bonchurch is his, and I never forget that. And he is not an idiot."

Marian rolled her eyes, scoffing at his argument. In truth, his words wounded her.

_Much earned it. _He had, she knew, serving their King, fighting the Saracens, in addition to fighting the sheriff after they returned home. He wasn't an idiot, she knew. He was brave, and loyal...in many ways braver and more loyal than she.

"Since he earned it," she continued, "you could show a bit of respect, and not treat his estate as if it's yours."

"How did I do that?" Robin shouted.

Ellie began to fuss, upset by the angry voices.

"Shh," Robin soothed, stroking the baby's downy hair. "How did I do that?" he repeated to Marian, almost whispering now that their daughter had calmed.

Marian had no answer. Robin had been polite tonight, though there was a fraction of truth in her accusation. Bonchurch had belonged to him once, having been built under his grandfather as a hunting lodge, and he did act at home whenever he visited Much there. And yet, where did he not act "at home?" His natural confidence placed him at home everywhere, from the late sheriff's dungeons to the royal Court in London.

Not wanting to reveal what truly bothered her, Marian kicked her heels into her horse's ribs and took off at a gallop.

Breathing an exasperated sigh, Robin followed her.

Arriving home to Locksley, both were surprised to find two new magnificent horses in their stables.

"He doesn't want it known, Master Robin," Ian, their stable master told them. "But the King and Queen are here."


End file.
